"La Strada" isn't Fellini's best, but it's a fine feature nonetheless (4.25/5)

I don't know too much about the life and times of Federico Fellini, aside from merely typing his name into the always trustworthy Wikipedia. But, after watching two of his most heralded films, '8 1/2 and La Dolce Vita', I've come to see Fellini as the kind of director whose ambition knows no bounds. This is evident in his creation of two films that are seemingly episodic in nature and surreal in feeling. Certainly the films had themes and characters that ran throughout the film, but never did they feel like every moment was moving in a linear fashion. This disjointed aspect obviously added to the surreal images Fellini put on screen, but I had always wondered if Fellini could tell a straight forward story. After watching "La Strada", one of Fellini's earlier films, Fellini proved he is capable of telling a linear story just as much as he is capable of making a film built around dreams.

Released in 1954, "La Strada" is one of the better examples of the Italian Neorealism scene, as it sympathetically recounts life in post World War II Italy. Granted it's not nearly as focused on the battles Italians faced after WWII as a film like  "The Bicycle Thief", but it certainly uses the war torn context as a starting point for the tragic love story it intends to tell. This notion is obviously quite a far cry from Fellini's most recent films (for lack of a better phrase) that cite Fellini's dreamscape more than they do a broken society. Nevertheless, "La Strada" makes for a nice cornerstone in Fellini's filmography. The film itself tells the tale of a woman, Gelsomina (Giulietta Masina), who is sold off to a gypsy named Zampano (Anthony Quinn). Zampano, a staggering figure, is a man who goes town to town, putting on a show for townsfolk where he breaks chains with his chest and performs Chaplin-esque comedy acts. When performing, Zampano is a man with undeniable charm and warmth, as he works the crowd for their already inelastic income. Yet, when the show is over, Zampano is a brute. With Gelsomina becoming Zampano's sidekick, she is often at the forefront of Zampano's rage as he abuses her both physically and mentally.

Yet, aside from the obvious reasons, this is an issue considering that Gelsomina has the uncanny ability to deliver a form of slapstick comedy that makes Zampano's shtick deeper and much more appeasing for crowds. She is Zampano's golden ticket. Despite all of this abuse, Gelsomina hangs on to Zampano not only because his show allows her a venue to have fun, but also because it provides her with the tools of life (shelter, food, etc.) that her previous life no longer promised. From this comes an infatuation and dependence for Zampano that is ultimately rivaled when Zampano and Gelsomina bring their act to a traveling circus. Upon their arrival into the nomadic circus, Gelsomina suddenly becomes enamored with a high wire performer aptly named 'The Fool' (Richard Basehart) who provides her with not only new ways to perform as a clown, but also with a splash of warmth and importance. Unfortunately though, this leads to what becomes a tragic love triangle as Zampano and The Fool battle one another for Gelsomina and clout within the circus.

With a story like this, it's important to have a set of pathos on hand so the viewer can understand why someone like Gelsomina would be enticed by the monstrous Zampano, as well as someone like The Fool. Without much understanding, the viewer will seemingly scoff at the notion that an abused, enslaved woman would feel the way she does. Fortunately, Fellini's screenplay is full of pathos that allows for an easy understanding of Gelsomina and her feelings. In addition to this, Fellini also provides some humane moments for Zampano as means to not characterize Zampano as cold blooded human being. This is most recognizable through subtle moments, but it's really hammered home in what is surely a sobering ending scene, which will have you questioning the level of sympathy you have for Zampano despite what has transpired over the course of 90 minutes. Fellini's ability to draw out some form of sympathy out of even his most meddling of characters is an indictment of how wonderfully he establishes the film's characters.

Clearly Fellini has a film here that is quite serious, but this doesn't mean he doesn't deliver an entertaining film. In actuality Fellini is able to find a balance point between poignancy and entertainment,  as he crafts scenes boiling over with energy just as well as he crafts scenes bubbling with drama. Much can be attested to the screenplay, but the film's and Fellini's balance point hinder on Masina's performance, which needs to be able to jump between a variety of emotions and acts at the drop of a hat. Needless to say, Masina delivers a wonderful performance that channels the physical strength of a Charlie Chaplin, as well as the emotional depth of a Hepburn. I think what is even more astonishing is that Masina accomplishes all of this mostly with her body language and the simple contortions of her face. Hell, at times it just seems all she has to do is blink and her eyes will tell a different story than the moment before. She without a doubt possesses a great range, and the same could be said for the film as a whole. It has a wonderful balance that can switch between slapstick comedy and melancholic moments with great ease. Never do I get the sense it can't do one or the other, nor both at the same time. It's always able to move freely as it pleases. This should be attributed to the performers and Fellini's ability to create complex characters within a simplistic tale. I don't believe this is Fellini's best film, but it's certainly evidence that Fellini can create a rich film without a dissonant narrative.